He nods once, a speculative look on his face. “I am not worried, not about that, no. But I am worried that not being with your crew is causing you much stress. I think that you need to see them for yourself before you will be able to move forward with me.”
His unspoken words hang heavy between us. I squint at him, wondering if he’s hinting around having babies again, but he just watches me carefully right back. He hasn’t said a word about it since our conversation after he went fishing, and I trust that he would if he was truly bothered by it.
So maybe it’s me, then, maybe it’s all in my head, that I feel guilty and weird about telling him I’m not ready to have his children. Ugh. I’m tangled up inside.
Seeing my crew, talking this shit over with them, will help. He’s right about that, at least. I frown, thinking over his words.
“You said you’re not worried about that. There is something you’re worried about? The separatists?” I guess.
“Bah. We can handle the separatists. Besides, the two we let go were quite taken with you. I would be surprised if the rest do not fall in line once word spreads of how desirable the human females are.”
I dip my chin at him, one eyebrow raised.
“And how intelligent, brave, and ferocious you are,” he adds belatedly, a hint of a smile on his face.
“And,” I prompt, grinning.
“And perfect in every way,” he says, his big hands circling my waist. His face falls, and he blows out a breath. “I am worried about something.”
For Draz to be worried, this big, strong warlord, it must be serious, and tension stiffens my shoulders.
“What?”
“Have you heard that roaring, nearer to the cave today?”
“Yeah? I figured it was just something in the jungle.”
“It is something in the jungle, and that is the problem. It should not be in the jungle. The Crigomar should stay to the southern swamps, but it is here, too near our Suevan cities and Edrobaz. We need to leave and warn them.”
“What is a Crigomar, exactly?”
His talons bite into my skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to tell me he’s stressed about them, whatever they are.
“They are a massive species. Carnivorous. Plated skin, fierce opponents. They are difficult to kill, and it is not something our people take lightly, to kill a Crigomar. They are important to our ecosystem, but the fact that they are out of their normal habitat is troubling indeed. There is also the small matter that they are a source of many legends for our people.”
“Don’t tell me they’re like the sacred snails from hell.”
He snorts, his fang flashing as he grins. “No. They are not sacred. Simply a cultural myth.”
“How big are we talking?”
Draz turns his chin up, silently measuring the cave. “Twice as big as this space.”
“Oh. Oh, wow. And you said scaled hide? Like, erm, a giant lizard?”
“Yes. They say we are their descendants, that we evolved from them.”
“All right,” I say. I’m not going to touch that one. It’s still too weird to consider the truly alien parts of Draz’s people. “They sound like dinosaurs.”
“Dino-sawers?”
Clearly there is no translation available, and I grin at him. It’s adorable when he tries to say English words.
“They went extinct on our planet millions of years ago.” I shrug. “Big reptiles.”
“Interesting,” he says, his eyes glimmering.
A roar sounds from outside the cave, distant enough not to be an immediate threat, but a shiver runs down my spine nonetheless.
His gaze cuts to the entrance, all amusement disappearing. “We have about eight hours of daylight left. Do you think you could start our trek to Edrobaz now?”
Shock ripples through me. It’s one thing to discuss returning, facing my crew and their… husbands, and it’s something else entirely to start the hike there now.
“You must be pretty worried.”
He dips his head in acknowledgment.
“You should have told me they were a threat before now.”
“You’re right,” he agrees, not even bothering to say something stupid about how I needed rest or give another excuse.
Real fear trickles ice cold down my back, primal and raw, as the Crigomar call sounds again.
“Let’s get our stuff together.”
“I packed it while you slept this morning.”
“Is that right?” I ask, real annoyance rearing its head. “And when were you going to tell me?”
“I wanted to see how your exercises went before I made a final call.”
“My opinion should have been a part of your final call, Draz. You can’t just make unilateral decisions without me. That’s not going to work.”
His lips thin, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s going to argue.
“You’re right. Forgive me, my heart. I am unused to asking for opinions. I am a Suevan Warlord. I was trained by blood and bone to make the decisions that are in my people’s best interests.”
“And I’m a captain in the Earth Federation. I can help make decisions with you. You don’t have to bear them all on your own.”
It hits me with crystal clarity, then. I could be a leader here, too. What the Earth Federation taught me carries as much weight here as it does there.
The dark abyss of worry inside me closes, just a little, at the thought.
I wrap my hands around his neck, smiling up at him and fluttering my eyelashes.
“Draz… have there ever been any female Suevan warlords?”
He barks out a laugh. “Of course, there have. You have such strange ideas about us, my mate.”
Good.
I like that answer very much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DRAZ
Ni-kee’s braid bobs in front of me, her shoulder just ahead of mine. The jungle sings with life around us, the air growing thinner the further up the mountain we trek. Here, the foliage isn’t as dense, but I keep my energy edged knife in hand.
A crossbow dangles from my mate’s hand, and I am glad she knows how to use it.
I do not like how close the Crigomar are. It baffles me that they would leave their lands and follow the Suevans up into the higher elevations. It is unheard of.
Something must be driving them higher. Whether latent instinct or newly manufactured, I know not.
But I do know that we need to get to Edrobaz as quickly as we can. My heart yearns to show my mate the city, to let her marvel at the architecture and art, at all the fine things that await her here on Sueva.
It will be hard to show her that if the Crigomar continue to track us at the rate they are.
I have no proof that is what they are doing, not exactly… but I have a feeling.
And years on the battlefield has taught me to listen to that instinct, so on we press, higher and higher up the mountain, until each breath is sharp and cold.
“Do you need rest, my heart?”
She shakes her head, her long braid swinging. “No.”
Her face is set with determination, and though worry claws through me, her eyes are clear and her breathing is steady.
“How much longer?”
I squint at the patch of sky overhead, the asteroid belt clearly visible against the deep blue. “A day. Maybe more, if I have taken us too far off course.”
“Are we off course?”
“Not that I can tell.”
“Okay, then,” she says. “Let’s get to it.”